Knotty Damsel Who Cried Wolf
by DavidPresents
Summary: A Damsel in Distress version of the old fable. Rated for light bondage.


Once upon a time there was a pretty shepherdess named Boacha who was busy watching her sheep. Well, I say that's what she was busy doing, but really, she was playing _Infuriated Iguanas_ on her Genius Phone.

"Bang! Pow! Crash!" she exclaimed, watching with delight as she catapulted another iguana to knock down the chimpanzees' fortress.

She glanced from the screen to her sheep, wondering if they were doing anything exciting, but, being sheep, they weren't, unless you counted nibbling on the tender green grass blades of spring exciting, which Boacha didn't.

"Stupid sheep," she said, wondering why she'd agreed to work on her grandfather's sheep farm instead of improving herself by signing up for a few classes at a local university. "If only they would DO something."

She thought of her boyfriend, Tom. He had he told her he would be very busy that morning on his farm, and not to call him unless it was an emergency. "I suppose being bored out of my skull isn't an emergency," she grumbled.

Then she noticed the date.

"It's April First!" she exclaimed, activating Tom's number.

"Boacha! Are you okay?" he asked.

"No, I'm not okay! There's a horrible wolf after my sheep! Tom, you have to come right away!"

"Oh, no, not a wolf! I'll be there as fast as I can!"

Tom frowned as the call ended, for he thought he'd heard Boacha giggle. "But of course she wouldn't giggle if a wolf was attacking her sheep," he told himself.

In order to reach Boacha as quickly as possible, Tom drove his pick-up truck directly across the fields, wincing as a wheel struck a rabbit hole, throwing up a rock that shattered the driver's side mirror. How his vehicle wasn't destroyed on the journey I don't know, but somehow he reached her. "Boacha! Are you okay?"

"April Fools!" she called out.

"Where's that wolf?" he asked.

"There isn't any wolf, silly. I told you, it was an April Fools trick, and a good one, too! You should have seen your face!"

"What do you mean, it was a trick?" Tom said angrily. "I thought you were in real trouble, Boacha!"

"Oh, calm down. It's April Fools!"

"That wasn't funny, Boacha," he said.

"Tom," said Boacha, "you need to develop a sense of humor. Maybe you should try playing an April Fools trick."

"I've got better things to do," he replied, "and since you're not in any real trouble, I'd better get back to them."

Boacha went back to watching her sheep, by which I mean, she started playing _Sweetie Smash_ on her Genius Phone. Lemon, lime, orange, strawberry, and grape sweets exploded into sugary shrapnel as she beat level after level. Still the game only held her interest for a short while.

"Stupid sheep," she said again, before she decided to give Tom another call.

"Help, help, a wolf is really here this time!" she said.

Once again, Tom sped across the fields, this time a rock smashing his passenger's side mirror. "Where's that wolf?" he shouted.

"April Fools!" Boacha exclaimed. "Really, Tom, I can't believe you fell for that trick twice!"

Tom didn't trust himself to say anything, so he simply drive his truck away, except for the rear bumper, which fell off and remained in the sheep pasture.

"I wonder if they have any good new games on here?" Boacha asked.

"Hey, baby."

"Who said that?" Boacha spun around. Standing a few feet away was a wolf!

He didn't look much like any wolf she'd ever seen before. For one thing, he stood upright on two feet, and for another, he was dressed quite nattily, including a wool sweater. It wasn't his dress sense that captured Boacha's attention, though, but rather the hungry gleam in his eyes. She snatched up her Genius Phone. "Tom, Tom, come quick! There's a wolf here this time for real!"

"Oh, no, you're not tricking me a third time!" he said.

"No, Tom, I swear, it's not a trick. He's going to gobble up my sheep if you don't do something!"

"No, baby, that's wrong," said The Wolf. "I'm not here for your sheep."

"Then what do you want?" she asked suspiciously.

I have no idea where it came from, but The Wolf suddenly held a coil of rope in his paw. "I'm here for you, baby!"

"Eek! Tom, hurry over here! He's trying to tie me up!"

"A wolf is tying you up? Yeah, right. If you're going to play tricks on me, Boacha, you have to do better than that. As I told you before, I've got a ton of work to do. Goodbye!"

"No, Tom, don't go!" Boacha dropped her Genius Phone and turned to run, but The Wolf was unbelievably fast. It was like a scene from a cartoon, his arms a blur of motion as he wrapped ropes about the shepherdess. It seemed less than a minute passed from the first cord tightening about her until she stood surrounded by them, unable to move other than to give her head an angry toss.

"Let me go!" she shouted, and then promptly shut her mouth, seeing The Wolf folding a men's handkerchief.

"Nnn-nnnn," she disagreed, turned away from him as he brought it to her lips.

The Wolf flicked out his tail, swishing it against her stomach. The move was so unexpected, deliciously soft and shivery as it brushed against the bodice of her pink and white gingham dress that she erupted in giggles. "No tickling!" she tried to say, but The Wolf was too quick, popping the handkerchief into her mouth. He added a bandana over her lips.

Boacha opened her eyes wide as The Wolf slung her over one shoulder. A couple of her sheep turned their shaggy heads, but not surprisingly, they didn't do anything except watch as their mistress was carried away.

…..

The Wolf's cabin in the forest is a marvelous place, and one day I really must describe it properly. That is a matter for a future Knotty Fairytale, though. For now, Boacha's attention focused solely on one item in his kitchen, a black cauldron, which seemed large enough for her to fit inside easily enough. "At least he hasn't lit the fire yet," she thought anxiously.

She tried to say something, but that simply wasn't possible with the gag. She looked over at The Wolf, who was busy sautéing onions in a skillet. "Having shepherd's pie for dinner," he explained, consulting his cookbook. "I'll need a bunch of stuff like potatoes, milk, butter, eggs, flour, spices, and of course, a shepherd. That's where you come in, baby!"

Boacha frantically tried to plead with him, but The Wolf laughed lazily and returned to the cookbook. Seeing his attention was off her, the shepherdess slid one foot forward, straining against the ropes surrounding her ankles. She then slid the other foot. She was moving forward! Admittedly, it was only an inch at a time, and in her predicament the door seemed miles away, but at least it was better than standing around, waiting to be tossed into a cooking pot.

She stopped suddenly as The Wolf looked up. She flashed him an innocent look before resuming her agonizingly slow journey as he poured a can of tomatoes into the onions and measured out Worcestershire sauce.

The door was drawing closer! If only The Wolf would keep busy with his cooking; right then he was pouring boiling water over stock cubes.

"Going somewhere, baby?" The Wolf asked.

She shook her head no. Why did he have to look over at her now? She was almost at the door! Of course, how she expected to open it and what she would do when she got outside were good questions, but still, it was so frustrating to be so close!

"Better get you in the pot," The Wolf decided. "That'll put a stop to your wandering."

Boacha's head shaking turned vigorous as The Wolf lifted the heavy iron lid. "April Fools!" Tom shouted, jumping out.

Boacha squeaked, uncertain whether to feel angry or relieved.

Tom slapped his leg. "Ha, ha, you should see your face now!"

Boacha's squeaking became louder.

"Hey, thanks for your help, Mr. Wolf."

"Sure, pal," The Wolf said.

"Wasn't that a great trick, Boacha?" Tom asked.

Boacha's squeaking became so loud that I think, perhaps, it no longer qualified as squeaking.

"You might want to untie that gag," The Wolf suggested. "I get the idea she's trying pretty hard to tell you something."

Like floodwaters rushing from a burst dam, angry words erupted from Boacha's lips. "What were you thinking, Tom, scaring me half to death like that?"

"It was my April Fools trick," he explained. "You said I should play one."

"I meant something nice," Boacha huffed.

"Okay, Boacha, I'm sorry if I went too far," Tom said, "but you tricked me first."

"That was completely different," she said. "I feel sorry for you if you can't see that. Now, please untie me so I can storm out of here."

Tom looked at The Wolf, who was retrieving a leg of lamb from his refrigerator. "Better do what she says," he suggested.

So Tom did. "I'll drive you back to your grandfather's farm," he offered.

"No thank you, Tom," she said. "I can manage the walk by myself. Goodbye, and I don't ever want to see you again."

"Boacha, wait!" Tom raced like a rocket out after her.

I don't know what happened between the two, but it probably didn't go very well for Tom, for he but returned a few minutes later, looking very downcast.

"Mr. Wolf, what did I do wrong?" he asked.

"Apparently she didn't like you tying her up very much," The Wolf suggested.

"I didn't tie her up; you did!"

The Wolf shrugged his shoulders. "A mere technicality. Anyhow, you're better off without her."

Tom sighed. "I thought the moral of this story was supposed to be something like if you tell lots of lies then no one will believe you when you tell the truth, but there seems to be some other lesson in here as well. Although I can't think what it is."

"Don't worry about it, pal," the Wolf suggested, who had about as much interest in fable morals as one of Boacha's sheep would in a T-bone steak. "Dinner will be ready shortly, and I've invited a bunch of fairytale heroines over."

Tom's spirits improved remarkably at this news, his concerns over the elusive moral evaporating. However, as I feel the fable is incomplete without it….

_**MORAL: In any successful relationship, you must feel you can always truss your partner**_


End file.
